For many years, it became about deprivation: No candy, no dessert, no French fries. But it is time to deprive myself of certain agitation, of the inability to settle down—as if my skin is lit with low fire. If I can find peace for even five minutes each day, I cannot help but expect a renewal, a return to something that I may have always missed.
Archive for the ‘Kind of true’ Category
Holler
February 4, 2008On the other side of the wall, a baby hollered. It bespoke great anger over deep injustice, a bitter, bitter holler that resists all comfort.
We never forget how to summon that kind of holler—but as adults, it echoes only from the inside of our heads. Perhaps things would be different if we learned to open tight lips.
Anew
January 26, 2008Now I am the one with the secrets, but they are the good kind. I keep so many doors open, but guard them all against you.
It is better this way, because I can make myself anew into something more valuable, a gift someone else can open.
Or perhaps they already have.
Same Panera, different décor
January 24, 2008One Panera looks very much like another, but the women stood amazed by some transformation only they could see. The exclaimed about the former pictures on the walls, reveled in the changeover.
Then they ordered the very same soup and salad combos they would have ordered no matter what Panera they were in.
Photos
January 22, 2008“You’re like a spy,” my mother said. “The way you take pictures is so sneaky.”
“The difference is this,” said my father. “She takes photos. You take snapshots.”
“That’s true,” said my mother.
Marinade
January 18, 2008Some days, she felt more raw than others, her whole being tenderized in a lightless bath of delicious waiting. A feast would begin soon, all chandeliers and heat and laughter and toasting, but until then, she had to remain content in the dark.
Meeting at Blend
January 12, 2008He met me there once for dinner, found me at the bar where I said I’d meet him.
“Did you have any trouble finding it,” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I saw the blue light behind the letters and figured it was where you were. It was, after all, the place in Cedar Rapids that looked most like New York.”
100 Proof 